It's not often I stick my foot in my mouth.
Tonight I did.
That moment when
words spill out
almost in slow motion
and my vaseline grasp
isn't able to hold
onto the words and
stuff them right back
from whence they came.
Yeah...that was me tonight.
I was embarrassed.
You could chart the crimson
moving up my neck.
Crickets could be heard.
And I wanted to pluck those ribbed wings
right off those pesky nocturnal insects.
If you know me well,
you know I don't allow myself much grace.
I beat me up.
And I do it quite well,
thankyouverymuch.
A blunder like tonight's
could be devastating
for someone like me.
And it was,
for a time.
My mental legs kept busy
flagellating my self-worth.
But, perhaps as a sign
of maturity,
of progress on the road to loving me better,
of God's enduring grace,
or this trio combination -
I am letting it go.
I am forbidding myself to be imprisoned by it.
I am allowing myself to move beyond it.
Everybody has feasted on foot, right?
Everybody has wished for a conversation mulligan, yes?
It just so happened I got to be part of that everybody tonight.
So, when you have
words not-so-wisely spoken,
greasy hands,
a red face,
and crickets plague your speech,
remember...
we've all been there,
(even the one to whom you said that silly thing),
and most importantly,
there's a God who is still crazy about you.
That's how I comforted myself tonight.
And so far it seems to be working.
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